<soft spoken intro>

Descended to the pit,
and threatened the Seven,
demanded back He,
the light of heaven...

Threatened curse upon life,
no more babies born!
Sent back with her hero,
but cursed for Her scorn.

And there's no light...

<musical intro>

<tempo>
Din-nant, uh-un, Din-nant

loud
And I'm prowling...

<tempo>
Din-nant, uh-un, Din-nant

louder
OUT AT NIGHT!

<tempo>
Din-nant, uh-un, Din-nant

And I'm prowling...
Out at night!
And I'm prowling...
Out at night!

The shades come calling,
darkness crawling,
heroes fallen,
females sullen...
and, uh, and uh,

<tempo>
Din-nant, uh-un, Din-nant

...there's no light.

Louder
THERE'S NO LIGHT!
THERE'S NO LIGHT!
THERE'S NO LIGHT!

There's no light.

<musical break>

And I'm prowling...
Out at night!
And I'm prowling...
Out at night!
And I'm prowling...
Out at night!

Where is the Sun?
Pain has begun,
fearing the One...
heroes fallen,
Nightmare calling...
...there's no light.

THERE'S NO LIGHT!
THERE'S NO LIGHT!
THERE'S NO LIGHT!

There's no light.

Raised of the Earth,
from blood in the dirt,
screams to be heard.
And there's no light...
...there's no light.

THERE'S NO LIGHT!
THERE'S NO LIGHT!
THERE'S NO LIGHT!

There's no light...

There's no light.

AND I'M PROWLING...
Out at night!
And I'm prowling...
Out at night!
And I'm prowling...
Out at night!

There's no light...

...there's no light.

Cray-Z...

You know that you are, *******, crazy?

Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.

Are you movin' on up?
to the top, to a deluxe compartment in your mi-ind?

Lenny?

Saul admired David...

"Admired,"

him.

dissolved him in, David.

You know that you are, *******, crazy?

Look at the hands, -they swirl in, ceiling paint...
Thinking like this the world is NO constraint.

Fuzzy
Futzy
Fickle
Fiber

Pick a pickle Whitley Streiber.

Gargle,
Gasp, rinse and repeat.

Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely as complete.

Crazy...

Carpet fibers tickle my neck.

I am a house.

Household item.

Bleach feels funny on the fingers,
they still won't change color back?

Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.
Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely incomplete.

Crazy you know that you are...

...is that wall supposed to be flashing?

!!!!GET OFF MY ROCKER!!!!

See me
as a conquest
an obsession,
your possession.
Collect me

Whisk me
away with fanciful vagaries
be abounding to
lift me to new worlds.
Excite me

Call me
late at night
when you are alone,
beguile me with passion.
Want me

Come,
take me

A hummingbird moves so fast it buzzes,
but it hopes you don’t notice.

"Gillette, Gillette, the best a Man can get!"

A lover to a sailor’s mast,
She’s leaving me,
…moving; fast.

Cris-crossed with linen,
Set to sail,
A relation-ship…
…I had failed.

Low-hanging moon,
Way out yonder, -there,
Glint off her spar,
So far now,
I don’t care.

Frothy seas of waves impress,
Is it a lonely beach?
Shore, sure;
I guess.

A bottle drained,
In some sadness, yes,
Fill a glass; to my Bess.

If I told you, you could have it all?
Soar the heavens, never fall.
Said my man she’d never leave,
A life of love a life achieved.

There’s your lover,
You’re manning a sailor’s mast,
Wind is blowing oh-so-fast,

Low-hanging moon,
A relationship -steeled,
Wounded heart of hers…
It had been healed.

Steady waves, a gentle rock,
Endless days since you’d had that talk.
On a course together all through life,
The happiness and the spice of nights,
Frothy seas, gentle waves, and nights they fold right into days...

If I told you,
You could have it all?
Soar the heavens,
And never fall?

Lonely empty bottle...
Rolling in the froth,
Goodbye my Bess,
my love; I’ve lost.

Seeping up out of the ground,
Into my ***** pipe…
Seeping, seeping, not lost, nor found.
The Earth, as plucked, is ripe.
For oil is my blackness-lust,
And verily; my tune...
For I will rend this world to dust,
To keep my Silver-Spoon.

Mother spinster’s sporcy spindle spaed a specious spider splenetically spinning a sparkling specimen of the spired and spherically eggish; still though spinose although sporadic, seemingly soft, deceivingly so, sacred, secret special place to stave off such besetments!

  Her enchantment’s curse, no less the worse, arachnid terse in webs of verse, or plainly verse we shall rehearse from high above to stage below or thought to hanging from strangely gallows, the sickly web a trap thus cloven of heaven’s weaver said to woven in all her life never betrothen, she cast aside all such resentments!

And so Old Mother Hubbard then went to the cupboard speaking her cursed ways…

  Along came Ariadne, the spider beside thee, winding her spinning, pointing thus pinning upon her the blame for all days. With no voice to speak, evading flood did she seek, a way up from the sea on the laurels of Mother’s uprooted tree. So was it ended, uprooted, upended, the guilt, blame and controversy. Umun-Hubbur, Humwawa, Humbaba, star-weaver and Hubbard and Ariadne!

When I was a boy I seen 'em on the streets,
At the clubs, street-corners, places where they'd meet,
Had new shoes....clothes and watches,
Rolls of hundred dollar bills fillin' up they pockets.

Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunter huntin' bills,
Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunting huntin' bills,

Some folks think drug dealing's a game,
And cutting deals, slingin' merck is how you make a claim.
But it 'ain't-never-been-like-that' from the first day...
Mack-grind, tek nine's about gettin' paid!

Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunter huntin' bills,
Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunting huntin' bills,

Loaded-up and cocked, no fear, no doubt,
On a mack-grind and we headed out,
              ...out to get some bills, hunna-hunna bills,
Yeah we headed out,
               ...out to get some bills, hunna-hunna bills,
Yeah we headed out,

Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunter huntin' bills,
Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunting huntin' bills,

Crew, mack-grind and we out the door,
Whip-ride, lead-foot petal to the floor,
Guess what? Your crib is where we go...
And son you know, we ain't knockin' on the door.

Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunter huntin' bills,
Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunting huntin' bills,

Hunna-hunna bills,
Bangers out to ****,
Hunna-hunna bills,
Hunting huntin' bills,

Bangers here to ****...over hundred dollar bills.

There’s a Devil of a night each year, the night of Mr. Haim!
When the devilish and ghoulie ones come out to play their monster’s game.
And why some would seek to trick or treat on this scary day of dead?
Careful now cause gremlins, trolls …sprites and wolves, will offer up their dread!
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots…

Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.

That crafty-smith of horns and hooves is spying on these kiddies,
As Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo are hunting strays to do their dastardly-ditties.
Quiet, shush, I hear a pack of creepy-crawly boots,
And their costumes, oh-so-foul, the evilest of suits!
And there she is, that little girl who can’t keep up, in a tasty mushroom ensemble.
And the skeleton bones clink in her path to give her quite a tomble!

Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo!
And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
The skeleton bones clink.

And Sammy Haim, that smithy-devil, a ***** hoof -igniting ghoul’s desire,
He’s howling out, demanding now, “Put that child to the fire!”
And little does he know, no little bit, not even a small clue,
Neither Ra’atan-Zu nor Boogedy-Boo intend on giving him his due!
For once a year on Halloween they get one night to spaz,
Get down and *****, wild and crazy and play a little jazz!
That little mushroom of a girl will play a tiny fiddle,
Ra’atan-Zu and the Boogedy-Boo, a jazzy duet with child in middle!'

Ra’atan-Zu, Boogedy-Boo and a little girl too as they get down actin’ a spaz! Playin’ all night, howling to the moon and kickin’ out some wicked jazz!

And the skeleton bones, clink…
And the skeleton bones, clink…
  The skeleton bones clink.

Today's goal,
mimic
all those
unfortunate
souls
met.

Meat,
another use,
all those
unfortunate
souls.

Draw
them in
a pen,
consuming energy,
eating.

Hungry
            hungry  
                   hungry
                          Hippos
...games.

Hungry
            hungry  
                   hungry
                          Hippos

(Descendant of the Eight Small Furies)

Cold frigged and wet but not icy and not yet. Two laborers at docks
find camaraderie in talks, tho’ their neighbors bustle by as they unload shipping stocks,  

For the kinsfolk miss a nothing a light mist of breath when huffing.  
The women like to pout as the crassy men do shout, shine on awhile whistling, Inn-keepers at shops coo their bristling and Old Wicca ones seen hissing from low, low talk in whisperings,

Although the morning bright the seas are high and not retreating, weather cool and fleeting, the peoples sounds a blend of bleating, as wily sheep would gather to speak about a matter for it is not the people’s spoke of that draws faint sorts of blather.

On this day...rains are much to rather, feigning raspy talons cloaked in chatter and from stores to shores to boat, seas, lakes, lochs, bridges over moat, not as to say they gloat, or ramble to invoke which fear of and from it stoke the gossip on one surly bloke…

For on this day everyone is talking in this seaside town in Eire. A hero undone by gossip but none can be called a liar. For about whom and what of -a man of such great fire.

Celebrity renown, born and raised but not settled down. Within its boundaries a-proper but of such character to copper, to change tasty meat to fat and bone, awe in disposition down to tone, mind boggling this gent whose life god gave as a gift of own.

In a perplexity of fright, brought tragedy each night and none could get away, from the obvious decay, due brutal awful fray, to make a beast from a shining dove, what the hell was God thinking of?

The crisper ears do so hear though not quite enough to whet, the imaginings to happenings they speak about just yet.  So hastily move spies, as I tell you of the sighs, the indignity and pride, swallowed with a town’s growing angry tide,

Upon this night so they see a man, creep who once the pride of Dan, loved more above all here in Tan, his birthplace this old briny-land but lately fondness on the wan, oh here he comes to close in again, to wane and wax vaudevillian, end up by dark a plain villain, as his face turns a shade of vermilion, electric ghost of Kirlian, eclectic host of deviling and calculated mind disheveling,

Pumped of mead or whiskey arguments are risky. Against his manner and girth, intoxicated nature -or mental worth. Sheer size attests his power, muck and mirth to fallen valor, the change is said to wow us, proven brute against all prowess, as such preferred and fight and such to nightly fright,

Béarthr is this man of once, of promises found to be just fronts, hanging around a town's high perch…though seen at the bar as sulk and lurch, or testy to some called a sailor who know not the fear of old dear Balor?

Sullen rent asunder, quick to wit when buntered, try with fists this skunkard; you brought low as a punter, hail to hell with such a drunkard! To stand and watch in awe, as blood and cracks and calls with cries and screams at falls, at doors torn from building halls, no end or stop to pause, sheer terror fighting brawls with fists he lays the laws, a violent testament to theater,

The burly beast named Béarthr!

Eight levels down to hell with him, each evening a town made grim but not tonight and nevermore, a double barrel out missing door, a silence from frosty place our cavern and dead beast felled on floor of tavern!  

If you find yourself frisky one night and driving through our Tan. If you’ve got salt are brisk for fight and hold your weight in sand…
…then make your way to such a place, renowned for such a meter,

You’ll find a name above the door;

O’ Ochtar beag the Béarthr!

rhythm
     <DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>

chorus

I try to keep them to my-self...
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>

Walking out in streets of Day-eh!
I try to keep them to my-self...
Never felt a price to pay-eh!
I try to keep them to my-self...
Always got to minimize.
I try to keep them to my-self...
I'm a smart guy in disguise...
I try to keep them to my-self...
No one seems to re-al-lize...
I try to keep them to my-self...
These are not just CON-VER-SATIONS!
I try to keep them to my-self...
Cause flowers wilt and flowers die.
I try to keep them to my-self...
Always got to minimize.
I try to keep them to my-self...
These are not just CON-VER-SATIONS!
I try to keep them to my-self...

soft spoken

Ideas, big and bold...
I try to keep them to my-self...
Ideas, big and bold...
I try to keep them to my-self...
Ideas, big and bold...
I try to keep them to my-self...

<musical break>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>

Ideas, big and bold...
I try to keep them to my-self...

soft spoken
Ideas, big and bold...

<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>
<DUN-Dun-dini-Dun-Din-DUN-Dun-Dini Dun Din>

...never matter till their sold.

Ideas, big and bold...
* I try to keep them to my-self...

"When faced with,
what seems to be,
an impossible challenge...

...ordinary people have
no choice but
to do the impossible."

Running through a field of stars
past the twirling gnomes…

The Bell-whistle blows as the train rolls in,
For the field of stars; my home…

An ashen horse in Celtic glee,
And me;

a weary sack

of bones.

King of Kings, I am to man!
Set apart, in stone; a gentry,

With a tomb that sits but nearly empty?

A grave with few artifacts to witness bear,
Inscription of him, who was the great king,

Who was once and future, a beginning to everything,

Whose great father descended into those lands…
Where epitaph graces a lonely stone,

And Ozymandias rests, at peace, alone.

Never let another say
that you are not,
perfect.

Never allow a doubt
enter your heart that
you are not,
perfect.

For God
in his infinite
wisdom has
made you a
perfection.

Perfect;
always believe
you are perfect,
at heart.

"There is no other state as gracious as self-reflection."

      "...and no other state as vicious as the self."

Perfect

Imagination is
Woooooooo.....

Sit here,
Nurse Brandy

pantyhose, God
So strange.

.******* NURSE BRANDY.

...or nursing brandy,

...or *******; Brandy.

Perhaps,

*..too much brandy?

“An ill of greed has befallen the land,”

“A quickening sickness which seeks to prey…”

“Where wealth accumulates and men decay.”

WE ARE TRANSFORMING
MATERIALS BORN OF LIFE
INTO THINGS THAT CANNOT
SUSTAIN LIFE, CREATE LIFE
WE ARE TRANSFORMING
THE EARTH, INTO DEATH.

IT IS OBVIOUS,
AT THIS POINT
THAT MAN,
-HATES LIFE.

"At least to all the other things living
whom have thought, -like mammals."

Imagine that an alien race has come to Earth....
What would you, "fix," about it?

FIX?
..ate,

eh'

These are not,  "possibilities,"
decisions are already made.
You do not live in a democracy.
War is coming; Iran and Syria.

Nuclear Supremacy is not an,
"ideal," or notion, it is a fact.
They are stating a fact.
Not opinion, -they intend to do it.

I used To think that if you readE,
read enough, studied, you'D see?
Brighter minds would stop it!
"Fool;" those minds are planning it!

Policy Papers are not policy at all,
they are cushions, a softening pillory.
Designed to lay a foundation.
Where you play sucker for war.

N.W.A
-New World Apocalypse-

By David John Mowers

Oceanus, Acheron, Styx and Gyges, Phlegethon,

Phaeacians lament, mourn the loss, Scheria, dissolved in froths.

Virgil’s tale, found correct, a land too good, a nation wrecked,

Nausikaa, burn the ships; their minds released, cool airy nips,

Below the wave, watery grave, submerged to bottom, fathoms by stave,

Fathoms some more, until the whorl, descending to, another world.

Through Omphalos, to Land of Sleep, awaits a beast, where time has ceased,

Darkness here, underworld, cold and frigid, below the whirl,

In solemn grave, souls released, judged and counted, by the beast,

Deeper than, the deep itself, past drowning fairies and dying elves,

Who did mourn them? Those golden men, magic mariners, Mino's kin?

What wrong was seen? What vice not true? What awful sin? What did they do?

One thousand years, first black age, Two thousand more, to find the stage,

Cast off Aries and cast Orion, to find beginning, of Golden Lion.

Man of Heavens, Beast agrees, Bull of Sky, Ox of seas,

Land of Punt, Land of Éire, Ogyges blue, hearts on fire,

All the seashores, all the mines, Tribe of Dan, from ancient times,

Port of Sais, Port of Thera, Port of Lagash, bygone era,

Sailor’s horse, Minotaur, a lyre is crying, strummed guitar, nation dying, abattoir.

Ochre foams to sanguine depth, there they rested, where Kronos slept,

He’ll never answer, he doesn’t care, we’ll never know, if this was fair.

Our hearts in sadness, hands on the gates! I curse you Poseidon!

. . .and your Sea of Fates!

..spit me out.


I tried to sin against the currency...

I tried to swim.

I DIED.

I came back...on the beach.

Beachhead of death.

I DIED.

I swam against the tide on LSD.

i died

i died

i died

Mother's Milk,
-feel no Whistles or Bells?

A river my poor state of mind,
feelings' worded
mediocre,
Meiotic
but I am home.

I wish to feel a bit more?
To expiate this Trollop!
Gibbeted?
-or boiled
I stew...

And finally,
yes finally...
...shall I **** the little Gnome?
I SHALL **** THE LITTLE GNOME.

Mendacious
not
Alone.

"It is equally as important to know useless things as those deemed useful. . .for the ability to skip learning the futile, to show to others how, is as insightful and beneficial as knowledge is to be gained."

The power of evil is rapturous...

...heaven here on Earth,

freedom;

finally freedom.

Animal has escaped

The Garden...

...your heart is a treasure,
one that I covet,

All the things one wishes a life to convey,
...to have your heart,

Is, -to live every day.

“There’s always a sucker in the till. . .and an investor in the mill.”

For the Dragon hissed as the Dragon died,
Apollo’s kiss as the night subsides,
Python’s bliss as naiad’s cried,
And the wailing woe’s on a weathering tide,

Water-wall from Kētos scream, tsunami crash, swallow everything,

Rolling clouds and the pouring rain and the serpent dying writhing in pain,

And the Dragon hissed and the Dragon died,
Apollo kissed away the night time sky,
And the Python’s bliss as his naiad’s cry,

The Sun awoke at the wheel-house berth, armor gold, chest-plate of Earth,

And valiance choked, squeezed by Ladon’s girth,

As the serpent swelled with the stormy seas,

To collapse great hero upon his knees,

Apollo, Cadmus and Hercules.

Reborn by fire, Father-Lion’s roar, returned each night to even-up the score,

And the Dragon hissed and the Dragon died,
Apollo’s kiss ward off night time skies,
Oh the wailing woe of ominous tides,

The scythe or club, boulder at night, rocks from heaven and the perilous fight,

Black-oil venom, heart of a beast, starry night’s runner split from the east,

Noxious breathe, flame-seared teeth, smell of death from a ****** feast,

Speared at the neck, pinning head to earth, then celebrated as a day of birth,

The serpent on his shoulder, or dangling from the tree,

Arising from the waters, from the depths beneath,

Cast out under a mountain, yes underneath, then wear his skin and sow his teeth!

And the Dragon hissed and the Dragon died,
Apollo’s kiss as the fight subsides,

And Python’s bliss as his muses wailed, between the horns where Argo sailed,

Call it a man or Charybdis, Scylla, rock, a multi-headed beast,

Or just two horns with a middle disk and Apollo’s fire, Sun’s dawning kiss,

And the Dragon hissed as the Dragon dies,
And Apollo’s kiss create the day time skies,
And the Python’s bliss at his naiad’s cries,
And the Dragon hissed and the Dragon died!

I found a cloak in fluttered paper,
paper that stands still...

Two stiff ends bind, enclose my yoke,
to those stories that do reveal...

Bound and stiff, yoked, yet so whimsy,
the paper doth conceal.

Undrape the cloak to become the man,
life becomes the thrill.

Never do sit still
Never do sit still
Never do sit still

The definition of Man is not thought alone...

Establish a research and development facility tasked with recycling 100,000 commonly used household goods or packaged products back into the original base material needed to remake it into new product packaging. Pass legislation requiring all companies selling products with packaging to buy their source materials from a registered public-private venture allowing any firm willing to participate to do so. Companies must then manufacture packaging locally using source materials supplied by one of the public-private companies. Companies will also be required to hire locally using a diversity and economic income model incorporating or locating the participating companies in the poorest rural counties in the state.










Society grows great when Old Men plant trees.  -Socrates

I peered into the nothing,
and in the nothing there, -was nothing...

I meditated softly, on darkness did I think.
Straining to see deeper and thereby caught a wink.

"No it's really there?" -To myself I said, "Tis' something?"
There is something there, no I see, there isn't nothing?

And suddenly I realized that everything I knew wasn't really something and never was it new? Never would I seek again to dwell on darkness -think, never would I ever wonder;

"What was in that noth-thing?"

Never would I hope to find that something was in nothing; for nothing is just nothing. Never would I seek again to find something in the nothing.

That darkness overwhelming, that Abyssimal Sea,
And sometimes something's in the nothing, there’s something there, you see?

And when staring in the darkness sometimes you cannot get free...

For sometimes seeking something in the
                                                                ­       Nothing

                      ...and nothing you will be.

The other day I crossed the street.

It didn't get angry with me,
it just sat there
while I stepped on it's face...
walked all over it,
used it until;
I found something better.

A sidewalk.

Think back to those days when you were a little person.

remember your father

Think back at how you looked up to him and knew,

remember your father

He may disappoint you but he will ALWAYS be there.

REMEMBER YOUR FATHER
REMEMBER YOUR FATHER
REMEMBER YOUR FATHER
REMEMBER YOUR FATHER
REMEMBER YOUR FATHER
REMEMBER YOUR FATHER

Good or bad,

REMEMBER YOUR FATHER.

In Americans,
nothing
Trumps emotion
like the Rock?